Prescott, Arizona

The wife and I just returned from a two-day recharge in Prescott, the former territorial capital of Arizona. The kids stayed home with family. We bunked down at the eighty year-old Hassayampa Hotel. The old place is said to be a haunted but neither of us saw any ghosts. Maybe next time. The two of us fed our gambling habit, each of us playing ten dollars on the penny slot machines at Bucky’s Casino. For the record, we were both busted within twenty minutes. And we found time to see Slum Dog Millionaire and Grand Torino, both outstanding movies.

We try to make the trip each year to celebrate our anniversary. My new book takes place in Prescott so I squeezed in a little research on among other things: the great Whiskey Row fire of 1900, the ghost at the Hassayampa Hotel, Bucky O’Neil and the Rough Riders, the filming of Billy Jack and Junior Bonner, and the night Bruce Springsteen rolled up on his Harley and played with one of the bands on Whiskey Row.

As I drove home from the high country it became apparent that spring has sprung – and so have my allergies. I just returned from Target where I purchased a virtual Disneyland of Allergy medications. I ‘m armed with cough drops, nasal spray, and the Target knock offs of Claritin, Tylenol Sinus and Nyquil. Come Hell or high water, I will write two thousand words tomorrow.